


Past Your Limit

by Dream_Wreaver



Series: Unrelated Incidents [7]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Mentions of alcohol, Please Drink Responsibly if you Drink, Requests from Friends, mentions of drinking, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 22:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13936515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Wreaver/pseuds/Dream_Wreaver
Summary: So... My friend poppicock requested this scenario: After Mama Agreste's disappearance Nathalie has had to monitor Gabe's drinking, Gabriel and Nathalie get in a fight and she decides to let him drink as much as he wants, they end up both drunk and making out in a closet. So this was fun to write, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.





	Past Your Limit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poppicock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppicock/gifts).



> So... My friend poppicock requested this scenario: After Mama Agreste's disappearance Nathalie has had to monitor Gabe's drinking, Gabriel and Nathalie get in a fight and she decides to let him drink as much as he wants, they end up both drunk and making out in a closet. So this was fun to write, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

When grief occurred it was not unusual to seek solace in all manner of vices. The whole point of vices was that they made you feel good. Helped you feel… anything. Anything that wasn’t the sadness and guilt rising like bile in your stomach. But vices could go too far. The night that Gabriel Agreste had realized his wife was gone, and not coming back by anything less than extreme measure, he and Nathalie had drunk themselves into a solid stupor. The bender had cost them, a day of missed work which set them nearly two weeks behind. Because that was the way business worked. Nathalie, ever the pragmatist, had learned her lesson and limited her drinking. Gabriel, however did not.

She was eventually forced to limit it for him. And many was the time he’d spent good money on liquor only to have it poured down the drain when he went too far. Nathalie was serious, so serious in fact that she’d gotten the locks on his liquor cabinet changed to a special key that couldn’t be replicated and only  _ she _ had access to. For whatever reason she was fine with him terrorizing the city, but only if he did it sober.

Still though, she couldn’t get him completely clean, he’d enjoyed alcohol long before this whole mess started. Not to such an excess as that he couldn’t be trusted with it, but grief tended to bring out the absolute worst in people. And there were plenty of business functions he was forced to attend for the sake of the company that had rich rivers of booze freely flowing in every direction. Nathalie always accompanied him -primarily because he’d always showed up with his wife before and he was too proud to show up alone or with an escort- to put a cap on his drinking. He was allowed three drinks, two if it was whiskey he was being served. And nathalie stringently kept him to that. It was always enough to enjoy the feeling of lightheadedness that such drinks were supposed to induce, but not nearly enough as he’d like. He drank to forget, forget his losses, his failures. But Nathalie had made it so he couldn’t even do that.

Of course, there was  _ one _ small benefit. Nathalie drank like a fish. And he could understand why. Though she was incredibly competent hers was a high stress career, only compounded by the fact that she had to help him with his bid to steal magical jewelry and keep his double life a secret from everyone. He could definitely understand why she would consume as much alcohol in her free time as possible, if that was her way of relaxing. But at such parties, normally the place where drinking was so encouraged, he got to limit her too. The same limit as him, three drinks, automatically finished if she started drinking anything with vodka in it. It gave him some manner of control in a situation where he was completely without, and though he would never say it out loud he was incredibly grateful for it.

Of course, there were other setbacks. Nathalie had worked for him for so long that sometimes she felt more like part of the family. Adele had certainly said as much before. But with her gone Nathalie felt entitled to poke her nose in where it most certainly didn’t belong.

“Sir,” she began after returning from alerting Adrien to the fact that he would not be joining his son for dinner, “Don’t you think this has gone on long enough?”

“What has gone on long enough?”

“This abject rejection of your son.”

Gabriel narrowed his gaze at his assistant, “You know as well as I do that we have a party to attend and that it would be rude not to partake of the refreshments on offer. I wouldn’t want to seem rude by refusing while there.’

“Ah yes,” Nathalie nodded, though ever ounce of her being radiated sarcasm, “Because we all know that if there’s anything the great Gabriel Agreste would  _ hate _ to be considered it’s rude.”

“Enough of your lip,” Gabriel narrowed his gaze at her, “We have a party to get ready for.”

“Adrien deserves better,” Nathalie kept it up, “At the very least, give him the courtesy of telling him you won’t be able to make your appointments yourself. Or allow him more freedom with his friends. You keep him locked up like a bird in a cage without paying the slightest bit of attention to him.”

“I’m, a busy man.” Gabriel defended.

“Busy enough that you need me to set up times to meet with him, I know,” Nathalie shot back, “Busy enough that you can’t even keep the appointments  _ you _ set up to see him.”

“Nathalie enough,”

“He’s hurting too sir, but you’re so concerned with your own feelings you can’t even take the time to realize he needs a parent and-”

“I said enough!” his voice echoed thunderously in the cavernous office, “I am a grown man. I can make my own life choices,” he ignored her scoff, “ _ without _ interference from anybody, especially a nosy assistant who seems to have forgotten her  _ place _ .”

“Oh really?” she raised a finely maintained brow at him, “ _Prove_ _it_.”

Gabriel raised a brow back at her, “Pardon?”

“You heard me,” she enunciated carefully, “Prove. It.”

“And how may I ask, would I do  _ that _ ?”

“You’re a fully grown man,” Nathalie reminded him, “Who can make his own choices without the ‘interference’ from me, right? Which is precisely why I’ve had to monitor your alcohol intake for the last several months. You want to prove me wrong? Fine, here’s your chance. We’ll go to the function; but from there on you’re on your own. I won’t be monitoring your intake, and I won’t be responsible for damage control if you get drunk and choose to make a fool of yourself. You make it through the night without doing either, and I’ll reassess my authority to speak to you on such matters. You don’t, however…” she trailed off, leaving unsaid exactly what would happen should he fail.

He stared at her long and hard. His ego was smarting at her harsh (and not at all untrue) critique of his parenting skills. He already knew he wasn’t the best parent, hence his determination to get his wife back. She was the emotional backbone of the family, therefore it was far better to have her around to deal with his son. But regardless of his motivations, he needed to remind Nathalie of her situation. So he stuck out his hand and watched as they shook, “Deal.”

MLB

This had been a bad idea. Gabriel realized it almost as soon as they walked through the door. The one hosting this little soiree had married a german and loved german culture. And it was Oktoberfest. And that was the theme of the party. Which meant booze, booze everywhere. It was impossible to stay dry, which had been how Gabriel  _ intended _ to spend the evening. It didn’t help that the minute they’d finished entering the building Nathalie had detached herself from him and immediately disappeared into the crowd. She’d left him to deal with the idiots, one of his major pushes for drinking at these things.

An hour in and he’d so far managed to resist. But his patience was waning thin with all the sycophants and toadies hanging off of him. He wanted a quiet corner to himself. But even if he managed some time alone he wouldn't get any peace since the music was so loud and irritating he couldn’t hear himself  _ think _ . And the temptation, the temptation was right there and within reach since servers flooded the room, their trays laden with all manner of alcoholic beverages. Ah, what the hell? One drink wasn't going to cause him to make a fool out of himself, one drink wasn't even going to get him drunk; especially not if he nursed it all evening.

With that thought in mind he took a drink. And then he realized he’d been spotted by Andre Bourgeois. God. Gabriel understood the importance of maintaining a cordial relationship with the man but he could be so insufferable sometimes. Without even thinking about it he drained the glass in one take and signaled to a passing waiter to give him a drink off their tray. By the time Andre had come over and the two had exchanged pleasantries and were well on their way to a drawn out conversation Gabriel did  _ not _ want to be a part of before Andre spotted someone else to suck up to and left Gabriel had already downed three more drinks. He was at four now, already over his normal limit. He hadn’t had this much to drink in so short a duration for quite some time.

He wasn’t  _ drunk _ , per se, his tolerance was still relatively high all things considered. But he definitely wasn’t sober anymore. Something inside him, the little voice that sounded uncannily like the normal, perpetually disappointed but too professional to say it Nathalie warned him that he should stop now. That he had a wager to win. This voice was undermined when he caught sight of the  _ actual _ Nathalie across the room. She had a glass of dark liquid in her hand, and she was watching him. When she seemed to notice that he saw her, she narrowed her gaze into a glare and took the rest of the drink like a shot, immediately replacing it with another. She smirked and raised a challenging brow at him.

His voice of reason, however small, told him not to try and compete with her. His ego, on the other hand, encouraged him to throw back as much as he could. He was in control, he was master of his own actions, and he could drink as much as he liked when he liked without consequence.

MLB

The room was spinning. That was really all he could tell at the moment. The night had progressed in such a way that whenever he and Nathalie made eye contact, they would finish whatever they were drinking and call for another. There was a great clanging in the distance, signaling the hour, whatever that was. It was dark, he knew that much. And the people were still here. Amazing, since most were at the age where they definitely needed to cut back on the all night binge-drinking. Himself included. His sudden return to lucidity frightened him though, what had he been  _ doing _ ? He couldn’t remember anything other than the time he’d seen his assistant and taking a drink. He still wasn’t entirely sober, all things considered, but he was noticeably less drunk than he had been before. He rose from a couch that he had apparently collapsed onto and looked around. Several groups of people were in a heap on the floor, but there were noticeably less of them than there had been hours ago. Which meant some had left, left this room at the very least.

His feet were unsteady under him as he stumbled about. That was the worst part of being drunk or hungover. The loss of control. He couldn’t do anything to stop himself, willing himself didn’t work as his own body would revolt against him if it thought the reward would be worth it. Gabriel had to brace himself on furniture and against the wall as he moved about the house, mindful of the people asleep all over the floor. And this was why he never threw parties. Too much mess, especially if there was alcohol involved. And given that he needed it in order to be around people, the situation was an impasse best avoided altogether.

Gabriel pulled his phone out of his pocket, early in the morning. Too early to be recovering from bacchanalian behavior. He would be feeling this all day, which meant no work, and no akumas. Damn, he really shouldn’t have taken Nathalie up on this stupid bet.

He paused. Nathalie. Where was Nathalie? He knew she could hold her liquor, but that didn’t make her any less vulnerable. Normal nathalie would have called both of them a driver to take them home hours ago. But here he was, and Nathalie wasn’t so petty as to ditch him here. He believed she wasn’t at least. Though, drunk Nathalie was likely an entirely different animal altogether.

He stumbled about, and fumbled with his phone. He should call her, she always had her ringer on. If he could find her and make sure she was alright then he could go home. As soon as he was certain the device was ringing he put it down to try and hear her ringtone. And off in the distance, so faint you could almost miss it, there it was. He followed the sound, tracing it as it grew louder and louder. Eventually he stopped at a small door. It looked to be a closet. Now what was Nathalie doing in a closet?

Resolving to find out he opened the door. It was dark, though the ringing continued. Just as abruptly though, it was silent again. The deafening type of silence that sounds too loud without sound to help quiet it. And just as suddenly, a manicured hand shot out of the darkness, grabbed ahold of his cravat, and  _ yanked _ .

Gabriel fell into the tiny space headfirst. But he landed against something that was most definitely not the hardwood floor. This was soft, and pliable, and… squishy? Gabriel’s hands found purchase against something firm and grainy, the floor no doubt. And in the darkness he could somehow perceive a shape. It looked like a person. Which could only mean…

“Nathalie?” Gabriel whispered harshly.

A feminine giggle, drunk as all hell, was his response.

“What the- why did you pull me in here?”

“Shh!” She hissed, “they'll hear you!”

“Who?”

All Nathalie did was giggle in response. Great, just great, she was still sloshed out of her mind. Which meant she'd kept drinking long after he must have blacked out. Suddenly the thought occurred to him. If Nathalie had been the one to pull him in, hen she'd been facing front when she did so. Which meant… in all likelihood that softness he'd been squashed face first into had been…

Gabriel could feel his face burning like a juvenile. Which was ridiculous. He was a grown man with a child for god’s sake! And yet the mere notion of what he might have had his face up against, the fact that it was his  _ assistant’s _ had him acting like a green lad. And what was worse, the longer he entertained the notion, the more…  _ visceral _ his reaction was becoming.

Stop, no. This was Nathalie he was talking about.  _ Nathalie _ . Nathalie  _ Sancoeur _ . She was his rock, his most trusted ally. And he was  _ married _ , he couldn't be lusting after her like this. Wait, since  _ when _ has he ever had thoughts other than business involving her? Just now? And like that the dam was broken and any sort of half-baked fantasies he’d never allowed himself to consciously think of (alcohol induced dreams didn't count) came rushing forth in vivid color. The most prominent ones involved that self-satisfied little smirk she often made when she thought no one was looking. But the expression slowly morphed under his ministrations and… the air in the closet was getting too humid for his liking. He was sweating, and there was this palpable tension in the air that cloyed his lungs and made it difficult to breathe. He felt lightheaded, as though he’d suddenly drunk an entire bottle of finely aged champagne all on his own. He felt drunk, drunker than he should have been. Gabriel was way past his limit now.

Nathalie was quiet. Too quiet almost… If it weren't for the near imperceptible sounds of her breathing he might have thought she disappeared. Of all the nights to go without Nooroo, things could have been so much easier. Wait, on second thought, no. He off-handedly recalled a few times Nathalie had informed him of his drunken transformations into the super villain. She managed to stop him from sending out any butterflies, but the results could have been disastrous. And Gabriel had apparently transformed well within sight of certain parties he'd wished to keep in the dark. Revealing his alter ego to some of the most influential people in the city, sober or not, was  _ not _ something he desired at all.

Speaking of desires though… his attention returned to Nathalie. Her breathing was now was shallow as his own. And with a high-pitched whine he heard rustling, followed by a sharp slap of something soft hitting the floor with force. Too much for something to have just fallen off the hanger. So it had to have been pulled and thrown. The only problem is with that thought in mind, there would have been more noise than just the rustling he had heard.

“Nathalie?” he questioned slowly, voice hardly daring going above a whisper, “What are you doing?”

He heard another whine, followed by the slurred declaration, “It’s hot!”

Such words never boded well in the history of well… ever. And it certainly wasn’t helping his mental state, especially not when coupled with the new revelation of his less than platonic feelings for his assistant.

Gabriel cleared his throat, “What did you do?”

An incomprehensible gurgle was his response. And then fingers were at his throat, reaching to undo his cravat. “It’s hot, aren’t you hot too?”

He was, though not in the sense that she was likely thinking. But he was unable to move as she continued her endeavor of removing a few of his many layers of clothing. She carefully removed his miraculous, mindful enough even in this state to carefully stow it in his breast pocket, as she undid his tie and tossed it to the side. Then her fingers went for the buttons of his shirt, which for whatever reason was slightly more difficult. Still, she managed to undo several of them before it occurred to him to stop her. His hands on her wrists stilled her, Gabriel could sense her burning gaze searching for his in the darkness. His rational mind, the sober side of him, reminded him that he was still married, that he had a wife he loved very much. A wife that Nathalie had greatly respected. A barrier which told them this was wrong, so wrong. But those voices were drowned out by drunken recklessness. The voice that said this was right, this was all they had wanted in the aftermath of being brokenhearted. That Adele would never have left if this had been a worry of hers.

In the darkness they found each other. Mouths met and moved, undulating against each other. Breathing quickened and shallowed out, filling the tiny space with heat and the sound of panting the few times they could manage to break away from each other. Delicate hands roamed his shoulders, trailing his spine, his nape, tangling in his hair. His stroked the length of her back from shoulder to waist, toying with the scarce bit of fabric that still kept her covered. Sounds were sent into his mouth, Nathalie unable to detach herself long enough to make them otherwise audible. Her hair came undone at some point, by his touch or her own he couldn’t tell. The thick, inky locks brushed against his fingers and Gabriel couldn’t resist playing with them. He felt like a teenager again as Nathalie blindly trailed kisses over his face, mapping his jawline and heading for his throat. And then, feeling was all he could do, coherent thought melting away in the face of blinding pleasure.

The memory of what had brought them to this point however, put a near instant damper on things. And yet it didn’t. They were at someone else’s house, in someone else’s closet. The risk of getting caught was terrifying and simultaneously exhilarating. He surged at the thought of being caught in such a compromising position with a woman who wasn’t his wife. Nathalie let out a breathy sound in response. But his logical side, already put out at being ignored for pretty much the entirety of the night, refused to let this slide. He had a company, a brand, an  _ image _ to think of. Like it or not, both he  _ and _ Adrien were the face of Gabriel and nothing could be done to jeopardize that.

“Wait, wait,” he managed to groan out hoarsely. He stopped her, much as his body protested. He could feel the confusion and fear of rejection rolling off of her in waves. He wanted to reassure her, but all he could manage to spit out in his haze that at this point was not entirely alcohol-induced was, “Not here. Home.”

There was silence, more or less. Soft panting met his ears and did nothing to help him calm his frantic heartbeat. He worried that his little interruption would cost them both more than scant moments to return to his mansion and find a bedroom, or perhaps a closet of their own. He was afraid that this could cost them the interlude altogether. Nathalie when sober was tenaciously stubborn, and he had no doubt that might have transferred over to her uninhibited state. So if she decided she no longer wanted this… he sighed, it would be torturous but he would deal with it.

He heard her, felt her leaning closer. She pressed a hot kiss to the space between his jaw and his ear, and into it she whispered, “Your place or mine?”

MLB

The next morning the host and his wife were dealing with the remnants of their party. All in all they had agreed it was a resounding success. Then, one of the servants reported that they had found an unusual scrap in one of the hall closets. The offending fabric had been brought forth for inspection. The host raised a brow at seeing its distinctive candy-striped appearance. There was only one man in all of Paris who was bold enough, and more to the point  _ could _ even pull off such an ensemble of color without looking like a giant candy cane. Now only one question remained, what was Gabriel Agreste’s cravat doing in his hall closet?

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Let me know and leave a comment below. Until next time everyone


End file.
